


When Worlds Collide

by JessiRomantic



Series: Hidden Creatures [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Awesome Bobby Singer, BAMF Hermione Granger, Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Boss/Employee Relationship, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Demonic Possession, Demons, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Interrogation, MACUSA Employee, MACUSA Employee Hermione Granger, MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Major Original Character(s), Not Epilogue Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessiRomantic/pseuds/JessiRomantic
Summary: Hermione Granger's new job with MACUSA has her working harder than ever, but when her boss said they may need some outside help it was from an unexpected source
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Bobby Singer
Series: Hidden Creatures [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001928
Comments: 10
Kudos: 64
Collections: Cast the Dice 2020, Somewhere in the World Fest





	When Worlds Collide

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [pandora_rose_xo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandora_rose_xo/pseuds/pandora_rose_xo) in the [Somewhere_in_the_World](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Somewhere_in_the_World) collection. 



> I’d like to thank hslades for their alpha/beta work. I would also like to give a special shout to PixieKisses and kiwi05622 who was an excellent cheerleader and TakingFlight48 who kept my Americanisms in line and helped me cut 900+ words.
> 
>  **Prompt:** Magical Congress of the United States of America
> 
> This is also an entry to Wizarding Crossover Connection's _Cast the Dice_ fest under the **Creature** trope.

New York was anticlimactic. When the secondment to the MACUSA Department for Angelic and Demonic Activity had come up, she had been excited to take it and experience life in the Big Apple. At thirty-one, Hermione Granger needed a change of pace from life in Britain. She refused to even consider that the brash decision had anything to do with the very messy and public breakup with Ron. 

Work was a distraction from her lack of social life, tiny studio apartment in Harlem, and doubts over the move. Her superior, Hank Malone, had been working her tirelessly since her arrival. 

She was unsure what she had expected but Hank, a 6 foot tall man in his mid-sixties with a full head of silver hair, was not it. His gruff demeanor as Director of a department that blended Aurors and Animal Control, gave Alastor Moody a run for his galleons. All limbs and eyes were intact though it was clear he did not come out of skirmishes unscaithed. Scars littered any skin that managed to peek out of his daily uniform of muggle American denims, a casual shirt with top button undone, and tan leather boots. 

Six months after she arrived, Hermione was devouring files on the spike of demon and supernatural activity occurring across the States and noted a correlation to a natural disaster in Stoll, Kansas. Deep in work, she was startled when a note dropped onto her desk. 

_Granger,_

_Sending this to you at work seemed like a sure bet, so don’t pretend you're not there._

_Rude,_ she thought.

 _Working through the latest in my head_ (Hermione scoffed knowing ‘in his head’ meant the ‘borrowed’ notes he took home) _and I’m reaching out to an old contact. I’ve not wanted to because we parted on bad terms, but it’s time to consider their help._

_Bring a bag for a trip to Sioux Falls on Monday._

_Malone_

Considering Malone was not one to ask for help, she swiftly sent off a quick ‘message received’.

* * *

Hermione did not realise that ‘Parted on bad terms’ was Malone talk for being greeted with the business end of a shotgun in the middle of a dusty car scrapyard.

“Nice to see you too, Bobby,” Hank calmly stated.

With a heavy pair of boots, jeans with at least four holes in them, and a stained t-shirt under a worn flannel, the growl he emitted was nothing less than threatening. “I told you never to darken my door.” His small green eyes were focused steadily on Malone from under a baseball cap and scruffy grey beard. 

Hank shrugged, “Desperate measures.” Hermione saw his hands twitch toward his pockets, knowing it was his preferred stance. 

The contact, Bobby, seemed to notice the movement, too, “Hands where I can see ‘em. None of that hocus pocus on me!”

Hermione was tempted to point out Malone’s wrist holster and the dangers of carrying a wand in your pocket but refrained.

“No hocus pocus, just needed a bit of expert help with the increase in demonic activity,” Hank said evenly, hands raised slightly in supplication.

Bobby’s eyes narrowed, “Flattery ain’t gonna work here, asshat.”

Hank nodded, “Figured I’d try.” That seemed to relax Bobby enough to lower his gun.

Hermione let out a long-suffering sigh, knowing at this rate they would never leave the porch. “Mr Singer,” she said, stepping forward. “My name is Hermione Granger. I work alongside Hank here. We noticed that there has been some significant demon activity in the last twelve months -”

“Balls,” the man spat. “I should’a known your kind would pick up that shit.” He gestured for them to enter. As she passed, she sent her colleague a smirk, to which he rolled his eyes. 

Entering what appeared to be a study, Hermione was immediately drawn to the bookshelves. They were stuffed with books on lore, something both the Hogwarts library and MACUSA were limited on. Most books written by wizards on the subject implied that any Maj managing to get possessed or killed by a demon was an idiot. Which was decidedly unhelpful.

Akin to ‘Constant Vigilance’, Hank Malone regularly barked, “If you’re not able to take proper precautions while in the field, you shouldn’t be in the field at all.”

“Water?” Bobby asked, bringing her out of her reverie. He handed her an ornate silver whisky flask. She put the odd gesture down to being an Americanism and took a tentative sip. To her surprise, it was water. Hank’s eyes were narrowed but he simply moved from the centre of the room to the sole threadbare red sofa.

“We’re not demons, Bobby,” he groused. 

The other man scowled, putting away a similar flask for Hank, “Well, you can’t blame a man.” Hank shuffled in understanding.

“So, Singer, spill,” Hank said eventually. “You didn’t seem surprised that we showed up.”

“Well, let’s just say there’s been a storm, and I know the boys who have been smack in the middle of it,” he sighed. Hermione, sensing that this would take a while, took a seat next to her boss.

* * *

If Hermione had not known Harry Potter, she would have thought that Bobby Singer was a liar. As it was, she knew one man that had a ‘ _saving people thing_ ’, and these Winchester brothers sounded like they were cut from the same cloth. She had half a mind to ask if one of them owned an invisibility cloak.

“So,” Hank said, “the Apocalypse happened and we didn’t know about it?”

Bobby shrugged, “‘Parently. Surprised that angels zapping all over the map didn’t catch your attention.”

Hank frowned, “Now that you mention it, that was part of the reason Granger was brought in.”

Hermione baulked.

“Thought you knew?” the question in Hank’s voice and the charming smile told her he knew he was in trouble. Hermione huffed as a telephone rang.

“‘S’cuse me,” Bobby said gruffly, sidling up to a handset labeled ‘Garth’. 

While the man was distracted, Hank ran his large hands through his hair, groaning, “Can’t believe this was going on over two years and MACUSA didn’t pick up on it.”

Hermione frowned, “Yes, it is quite unnerving. There was nothing in the notes left by the agents who worked with the Men of Letters in the ‘50s-”

“You _idjit_!” The yell of the hunter cut her off. She heard the distinctive clatter of a receiver slammed down, and then a gruff growl. “How that boy has survived…” he muttered, shaking his head as he grabbed his jacket. Hank coughed, startling Bobby.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed whatever _this_ was,” he spat, “I need to get back to my day job.”

“Well, ain’t that lucky,” Hank said, standing up. “Your day job is our day job,” grinning victoriously.

“ _Balls_!” he exclaimed. “Fine, follow my lead. I ain’t gonna slow down for nothing.”

Hank smirked, “Who said you needed to slow down? Where to?”

“Champlin, Minnesota. Meet at the police station?”

Nodding, Hank pulled out a gum wrapper, intoned, “ _Portus_ ,” and the wrapper glowed blue. “See you there!”

* * *

They ended up on a hunt, successfully dragging the detained demon back to New York with them. There was some kind of agreement from years prior that meant even as a no-maj, the hunter was able to enter the department and assist in interrogations.

The interrogation room they were holed up in had a unique design. The walls were lined with saltwater soaked iron, which was covered in ancient runes proven to ward off all manner of beings. On the floor was a devil’s trap, and the ceiling an angel trap. All fixtures were either iron or silver. In the centre of the room was a single chair that had magically enforced leather restraints. Hermione had thought the straps unnecessary when she had been shown the room, but seeing Hank in action, she began to understand why that was not the case.

The demon, or rather the banker the demon had possessed, was struggling against the bindings. Bobby and Hank were on opposite sides of the room while Hermione watched from the back. The hunter flicked the same ornate whisky flask she drank from, which she had learned was filled with holy water. Hank had his wand pointed at the demon. MACUSA had strict regulations on interrogations of hell made creatures, something that Hermione and Hank had needed to remind Bobby of. Multiple times. 

“What do you mean, King of Hell?” her superior asked. “How the _fuck_ has so much happened that we don’t know about?”

The demon laughed maniacally, making Hank sneer, “You’ve been out of the loop for a while now, wizard.”

Hermione sighed. They were getting nowhere. Stepping forward, she decided to take matters into her own hands. “Listen,” she said, using the no-nonsense tone she had perfected, “we know something has been happening since Lucifer and Michael got ‘locked in the cage’. While you might be entertained by these two attempting to one-up each other on interrogation tactics, I’m getting bored.”

The demon turned to her, seemingly not having noticed her until then. Hermione tried not to flinch at the sight of his entirely black eyes, nor the smell of sulphur that spilled off his breath when he spoke, “Pretty little witch. You know how to get to the point, don’t you?” Hermione did not react. The demon’s smirk turned to a scowl, “We’re at war, sweetheart, we need soldiers.”

“Soldiers, what kind of soldiers?” Hank demanded. The demon’s head snapped to the side.

“Souls. Lots of ‘em.”

“You have crossroads deals bringing in souls all the time,” Hermione argued.

“Ten years after the deal, yes. We need souls now!”

Hermione frowned, “What does that have to do with Crowley or the fact that monsters from around the world have been turning up all over North America?” While she was talking, Hermione entered the vessel’s mind using Legilimency. Unfortunately, she only got glimpses of what the demon could not keep hidden.

One word stood out, though.

 _Purgatory_.

Hermione’s eyes widened. The demon looked at her in shock and fear, “Kill me!” he demanded, turning to Bobby, clearly thinking that the hunter was most likely to fulfill his request.

Just as Bobby was about to open his mouth, Hermione called them to her. The two older men walked over, confused. She led them out of the interrogation room before casting a quick _Mufflito_. “Purgatory,” she whispered once they had joined her in the corridor. “Crowley wants the souls in purgatory.”

“Fuck’s sake!” Hank exclaimed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bobby yelled at the same time.

“That demon doesn’t go back to Hell,” Hermione informed, glaring at the two men.

“What, Granger, listen -”

“For once, we know what’s going on, Malone. As soon as that thing is sent back to Hell, Crowley will hear about it.”

“Girl’s right, we can’t risk that fucker finding out what we know.”

Hank scowled, running his hand down his face, “Fine but it’s getting late. Let’s get you out of here, Singer.” Bobby looked like he was about to protest before he stifled a yawn.

“Fine, but you come get me tomorrow. Firs’ thing.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, “Crack of dawn, Mr Singer.”

Bobby almost choked at the epithet, “Mr Singer was my bastard father. Bobby’s fine.”

Hermione pursed her lips slightly, all the swearing going on, and she did not much appreciate it. “Okay. Bobby, I’ll come and get you in the morning. Do you have a place to stay? We’re quite a way from home for you, and I know you aren’t happy about side along apparition.”

The man shrugged, “I know a place.”

As they were walking out of the Woolworth's Building visitors entrance, Bobby's phone rang. “Yeah?”

On the other end of the line, Hermione overheard the caller clearly, “ _Bobby, it’s Sam. He… Shit… He’s missing his soul_.”


End file.
